Thrice blessed
by Kedi
Summary: Few are those fortunate enough to see a mermaid, and fewer still are granted the experience more than once. Jiminy is thrice blessed.


**Author's note:** Inspired by a prompt from the lovely living-life-as-a-long-fairytale. I'm sorry I didn't follow it to the letter, my friend, but I hope you'll like it just the same! Hopefully it was worth the wait. :)

**Summary:** Few are those fortunate enough to see a mermaid, and fewer still are granted the experience more than once. Jiminy is thrice blessed.

**Characters:** Jiminy, a little mermaid (OC)

. o O o .

**First...**

Jiminy was five years old and though he was already quite good - "a natural, naturally!" his father had bragged with a laugh only the night before - he was not yet good _enough_. As the rough hand of the man whose pocket he had tried to lighten clasped down upon his and a furious face turned to him, Jiminy felt fear so all-consuming he couldn't remember anything his father had told him he should do if he was ever caught. He couldn't even remember _if_ his father had told him what he should do if he was ever caught…

"A thief! I'll teach you to steal from me, you little cretin!"

The grip on his hand tightened impossibly tighter and Jiminy cried out in pain and protest, and as he was dragged struggling through the crowd by the furious man tears started prickling from his eyes despite his best attempts to halt them. Big boys don't cry, his father had told him that many times, but in that moment Jiminy didn't feel like a big boy.

They reached the end of the pier and the man yanked hard on Jiminy's arm and suddenly Jiminy was flying. For a brief moment he felt elation as the iron grip on his wrist disappeared, but the feeling only lasted until he hit the water and all the breath was knocked from his lungs. It was as if all the strength was forced from his body along with the air in his lungs and he couldn't even manage to kick his feet or flail his arms; he sank like a rock and his terror was complete.

But then he felt gentle hands around his waist halting his descent and a softly hummed song in his ear. The world around him was dark and scary but the song was light and sweet, and though his lungs were burning and his whole body was aching and his mind was feeling fluffy...

He woke up coughing, the sunlight too bright in his eyes, and he didn't care that big boys didn't cry because he was soaking wet and cold and frightened and he sobbed and gasped for air and his lungs were burning and his wrist was pounding with pain and -

"Shh, little landlubber, you are safe now."

Jiminy couldn't see clearly through his tears but when gentle arms pulled him into a hug he latched on with desperation and bawled in both fear and relief. The same song he vaguely remembered from the darkness was hummed in his ear and it soothed and calmed him, and eventually his tears dried up and his sobs quietened. All the while he was held in a reassuring hug and a hand was gently stroking his hair.

"The water is not safe for landlubbers who cannot swim, little one," the melodious voice said in his ear.

"The land is not safe either," he sniffled, thinking of the angry man who had thrown him from the pier. The voice chuckled.

"You must learn to swim if you're to be near water. It was only luck that I saw you, little one."

Jiminy pulled away from the hug and wiped his eyes as he straightened up. "I'm not little."

The young woman - for it was a young woman who had saved him - laughed, but it was not a mocking laugh and Jiminy didn't know quite how to respond; he was used to mocking laughter, but this didn't feel like mean laughter. He smiled uncertainly.

"You will be big in time, little landlubber, for that is the way of land-living creatures. I am of the sea and eternal as the waves, but you will grow and live and love, and in time you'll go where I cannot follow."

Jiminy frowned in confusion and the young woman reached out and tenderly brushed a wet lock of hair from his brow.

"I've never seen hair like yours on a human before," she said with a smile. Jiminy looked at her long flowing hair, so fair it was almost white in the sunshine. He'd never seen hair like hers either.

"Who are you?"

She laughed at his inelegant question and he felt a blush colour his cheeks. "I'm a daughter of the sea," she answered and Jiminy saw movement in the corner of his eye and turned his head to see a silvery glittering tail where her feet were supposed to be. He gasped, but didn't really feel frightened. He might have, maybe should have, but this lady had been nothing but kind to him and had saved him from the scary darkness. Tail or legs, it didn't matter. She was kind, and he liked her.

"Thank you for helping me," he said shyly, looking down as he shuffled his feet a little. When he looked back up at her she smiled in what might have been relief.

"You're welcome, little one."

"What's your name? Mine's Jiminy." He held out his hand eagerly in greeting. Manners were important, he knew that; good manners made people like and trust you, and when people liked and trusted you they were less on their guard, making it easier to lighten their pockets. Jiminy wanted her to like and trust him, but he didn't want to steal from her. He wouldn't tell his parents about her, he decided. She would be his secret so they didn't get mad at him for not stealing from her.

"My name's Ondine," she said, but instead of shaking his outstretched hand she gently turned it palm up and Jiminy gasped as he for the first time noticed the dark and angry bruise left after the brute's hard grip. In that peculiar way of pain it intensified as soon as he was reminded of the injury and he bit his lip and stubbornly tried to blink away the tears pooling in his eyes. Ondine shook her head and stroked his cheek and when he dared to look at her she smiled warmly.

"There is no shame in tears, Jiminy."

He nodded and sniffed, but still tried to keep the tears at bay. She lifted his hand and placed a soft kiss to the inside of his wrist, and there came a strange itching feeling before the bruise faded away before his astonished eyes. She let go of his hand and he flexed his fingers hesitantly, then rotated his wrist experimentally, and grinned when there was not a flinch of discomfort.

"Thank you!" He grinned, all shyness and reservation gone in an instant. "That was amazing! A-are you a fairy?"

He had heard told of fairies, beautiful creatures of light and kindness who wielded good magic and helped people in need. His father had dismissed them as silly tales and superstitions, but Jiminy had always loved the stories. Jiminy had even tried to wish upon the blue star many times, but no fairy had ever appeared. He thought it was because he was a thief: the stories clearly said that only those who were pure at heart could get their wish granted by a fairy, and though he wasn't sure what it meant exactly to be pure of heart stealing was no doubt a dealbreaker. But still Ondine had saved him! Maybe he had wished the wrong way before?

"You're so beautiful and so good you must be a fairy!"

But Ondine just laughed in delight and hugged him tightly before ruffling his hair like he was a toddler.

"Oh you'll be a menace when you grow up, little one! The maidens will fall at your feet if you compliment them so sincerely!"

Jiminy wanted to remind her again that he wasn't little, but her brilliant smile chased away all his grumpiness and he decided that he'd stand the indignity if it made her so happy. He wouldn't even say anything about the worrying thought of maidens falling at his feet - what if they hurt themselves? He didn't like the thought of that at all. But Ondine was smiling at him so happily so he just shrugged awkwardly with a smile, which for some reason made her laugh all the more.

"Modest too," she said, scrunching her nose at him in a way that made him laugh despite his best efforts not to.

But a gust of wind made him shudder and hug himself, his wet clothing suddenly feeling very cold, and the laughter faded from his new friend's eyes.

"You must go."

He shook his head even as his teeth started chattering, but the stern look she gave him made it clear that no matter what he said he wouldn't be able to change her mind. "W-will I s-see you ag-gain?"

"Few are those who see a mermaid, and fewer still are granted the experience more than once," she said softly, and Jiminy thought, sadly. "But if the fates wants us to meet again we'll meet as friends, little one."

Jiminy stood up a little straighter. "N-next time I w-won't be little anymore," he declared proudly through his shivering. "And I w-won't let anyone throw me into the water anymore! A-and I'll learn how to swim!"

She laughed in delight at his determination and waved after him as he started the climb back up to the pier. Halfway up he turned to wave but she was already gone.

When he reached the top he could see a big crowd around the burly man on the end of the pier and they seemed very angry. He could see a few people in the water and frightened the angry man would throw him into the water again too Jiminy hurried into the woods before anyone could see him. He ran as fast as his little feet could carry him back to the campground, where he immediately climbed into the wagon and stripped out of his wet clothes. When his parents came back at dusk talking in hushed whispers about the local man who in all likelihood would be lynched for the drowning of a child, planning and plotting ways they could milk the situation - maybe they could claim the child was theirs and demand recompense? - little Jiminy was bundled up in blankets fast asleep. He dreamed of a kind lady with a tail instead of feet and a sweet melody he couldn't remember properly when he woke up the next morning.

. o O o .

**Second...**

Jiminy was a grown man and his heart was heavy with all the wicked things he'd done, but the sight and the sound of the sea was like a balm for his troubled mind. His parents had gone into the nearby town to "reconnoiter" as soon as they made camp which left Jiminy a few precious hours of solitude as soon as the horses were watered and fed. Intending to make the most of it Jiminy followed the shoreline until he found a nice spot where he sat down on a large stone slab still warm after the sunny day. The sound of the waves was so calming and the rock so pleasantly warm that he lay down flat on his back, and as he lay there with his eyes closed he felt almost at peace. The sound of the waves and the sun on his face soothed his inner turmoil a little as he let his thoughts drift where they would.

A sound woke him and he blinked owlishly, the last remnants of a dream fading fast from his mind. The sky that slowly came back into focus above him was no longer blue and the sun was gone, hidden behind dull grey clouds promising rain. As he sat up he noticed that the wind had picked up and hugged himself against the cold, wishing he had thought to bring a cloak - or at least had had the sense not to fall asleep like that. Rising he decided to head back to the wagon, but just as he turned away he heard the sound again. A voice! He looked around without seeing anyone, and wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. Maybe he still was not quite awake. Maybe it was the wind. But as he was about to turn away again he glimpsed something among the waves.

He was in the water before the thought of a person out there in distress had fully formed in his mind, and he thanked the fairies that he was a decent swimmer despite having grown up mostly in woodland areas. (Though arguably his father was the one to thank since he was the one who taught Jiminy to swim - but considering that he taught his son the skill not to keep him safe but rather to have said son pretend to drown and then be rescued by the kind stranger that people didn't know was his father… who alas, had a sick wife and half a dozen kids dying in the next village! And had sadly lost his last coin as he saved this poor child from drowning! The child was saved, but what of the savior's family! Oh woe, oh woe! Is there no one who can spare a coin in friendship? No, Jiminy didn't feel particularly thankful for that.)

The water was much colder than Jiminy had anticipated and every stroke felt heavier as the warmth seeped out of him, but even though it felt like the distance between them didn't lessen at all Jiminy swam stubbornly on. The sense that the drowning person seemed further and further away from shore every time Jiminy glimpsed them had to be his imagination; the view of the world is easily changed by elements like exhaustion and cold after all...

The thought that he should have called for help before jumping in struck him much too late. Treading water for a moment in an attempt to catch his breath Jiminy looked back over his shoulder and realised that the shore was much, much farther away than he had thought... and he was sure that it was not just his imagination. Surely he was further out now than the person had been when Jiminy spotted them from the shore? There were no undercurrents that he could feel, and he'd been swimming against the strong current the whole time... the man or woman should get _closer_ to shore, not farther from it! He looked around and worried when he realised he no longer could see -

Something grabbed his leg and yanked hard, pulling him under. He swallowed water and coughed, but there was only more water and his throat closed up, trapping water and what little air remained in his lungs; lungs already burning in tandem with the white hot panic in his heart as he struggled desperately against the unrelenting grip around his ankle. Whatever had him by the leg dragged him mercilessly down into the deep darkness and no matter how much Jiminy kicked the grip remained as unyielding as ever. Something tore in his leg and his ears popped from the pressure but the pain didn't register through the all-consuming terror. And still the grip dragged him down, down, further down…

As the darkness fell around him Jiminy felt a deathly lethargy rob him of his remaining strength, almost as if darkness was falling within him too; dulling the fear, dulling the pain, dulling everything. The grip on his foot eased up and let go, but his mind was too hazy to really register it. Hands roamed over his chest, sharp nails or claws slicing through clothing and reaching numb skin beneath, but he didn't feel it. He tried to reach for the last glimpse of daylight far above him but his hand was much too heavy to lift; so instead he kept his eyes on it, that faint little speck of colour so far away, dimming and darkening until everything was black.

. o .

Ondine felt her heart beat madly in her chest as she hurried away from her sister, her precious load held tight as they rose towards the surface as fast as she dared - the mortal bipeds were frail creatures, she knew, and could not withstand the rapid change in pressure her own kind shrugged off as nothing, so she had to be careful lest she accidentally kill in her attempt to rescue.

But of course he might still perish; when she had yanked the human from her sister's deadly grip he had been still and unresponsive, the familiar light of life fading, and Ondine knew it might already be too late.

Her sister had pursued them at first, furious to be denied her meal, but had quickly given up - Ondine was the fastest of them all and none lived under the sea that could keep up with her. It had its advantages to be small and lithe. She held the mortal closer and swam as hard as she could, but when they finally broke the surface he did not stir, did not draw breath, but remained still and unresponsive in her embrace.

Pulling him up on the rocky shore Ondine felt immensely sad as she gently brushed red hair from his brow. Oh, her little landlubber from so long ago. He wasn't little anymore but his hair was still as red as the last time they met; her own pale tresses of her seemed terribly dull in comparison.

She pulled him a little further up on the shore, still a little wary that her sister might follow after all. Some of her sisters preyed on shipwrecks and lost sailors, mortals foolish enough or unlucky enough to brave the terrible storms their father orchestrated, and that particular sister of hers had always been especially vicious and hungry for human flesh; known to lure unsuspecting humans into the water with her sweet hypnotic song or false pleas for help. Unsuspecting humans like this one, who had fallen for her sister's wicked ploy and had jumped in the water to save what he thought was a person in distress, only to be pulled down to a watery death. Selflessness and kindness had driven him into the water, and it only made the terrible betrayal all the more cruel. Ondine saw his life light dim further and she shook him hard.

"No, don't you dare!"

She placed her hand above his heart and kissed him, letting her healing magic knit together wounds left after her sister's claws and tendons torn in his struggle and strengthen the tired heart barely beating. And when she pulled back she saw to her relief that his life light was brightening. He started coughing, bringing up seawater coloured by his blood and she held his shoulder, helping him over on his side as the merciless coughing wracked his body. When the fit at long last let go of him he fell into an exhausted daze, but the aura of his life light shone brighter by the minute and Ondine rejoiced in the knowledge that her little landlubber would live. There were injuries even a mermaid's kiss could not heal, points of no return from whence even magic like hers could not pull someone back - but she had been in time, thankfully.

"I know how to swim..."

She looked down at the weak declaration and smiled in relief as blue eyes locked with hers. She had not had time to wonder if he would recognise her, but apparently she didn't have to worry; his eyes sparkled with fond recognition.

"This time it was the fact that I _could_ swim that got me in trouble."

She laughed and he smiled tiredly up at her.

"Thank you. Again." Though his voice was weak his gratitude was no less sincere.

She helped him into a sitting position and held securely onto his arm as he swayed. He was still looking green around the gills - so to speak - but her healing magic was slowly but surely bringing colour back in his cheeks.

"You are very welcome, Jiminy."

His smile was both surprised and pleased. "You remember me."

She brushed a finger through his hair with a playful smile. "How could I forget the very first red-haired human I ever saw? Of course I remember you, 'little one'." She laughed at the wry look he gave her. "Not little, I know, I remember."

He huffed out a laugh. "Actually, since I owe you my life twice over I think you're allowed to call me whatever you wish."

"Thank you, little landlubber, that's very generous of you."

He chuckled and Ondine felt a strange but pleasant feeling stirring in her heart.

. o O o .

**Third...**

Jiminy was older than he cared to think about, though one couldn't tell by looking at him. He'd been a cricket for many, many years and it had been a long time since last he bothered counting his years - there wasn't much point when you no longer felt the tooth of time on your body.

He thought he might not get much older, though. And what a way to go... stuck in a jar bobbing in the middle of the ocean.

He shivered, the cold sea water draining his body of the little warmth it had, and was reminded of the first winter after his transformation when he found out the hard way that crickets are cold-blooded. The sea water was not as cold as the wind and snow had been back then, but he could nevertheless feel his body slowing down, the strange wintery lethargy stealing over him again. Last time the Blue Fairy's magic had protected him from the elements and his own ignorance, but he wasn't sure it would this time - if Geppetto and Pinocchio were dead... Well, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad to just fall asleep and join them. Another shudder shook him and he wondered how long it would take before he became so cold his cricket body slowed down until it stopped completely.

He shrugged his wings and hissed as the water dragged painfully on the gossamer fabric. The jar was half full of water and the sides were too slippery - he had tried to climb higher to get his wings out of the water long enough for them to dry, but had nearly tipped the jar over and he had not dared try again. Wet and cold he may be in the jar, but he would be far worse off without it.

Had he only been dry, then he could've flown to safety... But where would he have flown? As far as the eye could see there was only water, and in his weakened condition he would not make it far. He sighed.

When the cold robbed his feet of the strength to hold him up and he slumped against the glass, he mused that it was a good thing that the water only got to his chest - at least he wouldn't drown. He'd nearly drowned twice before and it was not the death he would wish for himself. Freezing was much preferable, he thought, all things considered. By now he was so cold it almost felt warm...

A sweet, hauntingly familiar song reached through the fog that had descended upon his mind and he struggled to find his way back to consciousness.

A curious face peered at him through the glass and Jiminy distantly marvelled at his fortune to thrice be saved from certain death by a mermaid. Well, a pragmatic part of him amended, not saved _yet,_ but hopefully...

She opened her mouth to speak but hesitated, and the confusion on her face was one Jiminy had become very familiar with over the years.

"You recognise me, don't you, Ondine." It wasn't really a question, more of a confirmation because he was certain she did, judging by the way she looked at him. She just didn't trust her own eyes. Hadn't she said that she could see the force of his life as a sort of aura around him? And that each and every person's aura was distinct and unique, and that's how she had recognised him the second time they met? He didn't know much about life forces and auras, but he couldn't blame her for being confused - his aura might still be the same, but his body sure wasn't.

She lifted the jar out of the water, tilting it carefully so the water drained out, and when he tumbled out also, too tired and cold to cling on, she quickly caught him. She held him up so close that he could have reached out and touched her nose, but he was still so cold he could barely move, and for a long moment she just looked at him intently with a pondering frown on her face. Then she smiled, a soft and warm smile that awoke memories in the watersodden cricket of long, long ago, and she leaned in closer still, nudging him gently with her nose.

"You're little again, my little landlubber," she said, and Jiminy had a feeling she would've hugged him had she been able. "Littler even than the first time we met, and this time there's no arguing the matter!"

He would have chuckled, but the mirth was too hard to push past the fog that threatens to engulf him again. "Colder too," he managed to whisper. She frowned in worry and cupped her other hand over him to shield him from the cold wind. He would have smiled at the protective gesture had he been able.

"You need to be warmed up," she said more to herself than to him and looked off into the distance. "Right away. Your light is dimming."

Jiminy reflected that yes, it did sort of feel like he was dimming... She asked him if he could hold onto her hair but no matter how hard he tried his hands wouldn't co-operate, feeling heavy and cumbersome and uncoordinated, and then he was gently placed back into the now empty and drying jar as everything faded into grey.

. o .

For the third time in his life Jiminy woke up on a beach, but though this time he didn't wake up coughing he felt sicker than he ever had before; his head was pounding and his whole body ached, and he couldn't help the weak groan that escaped. A gentle touch ghosted over his chest and as his eyes focused he could see Ondine peering at him with a worried look on her face. He tried to lift a hand to his head, but found his movements restricted by what turned out to be coarse cloth. The weak motion made her smile in relief and with a murmured apology she lifted the cloth a little allowing him to shift into a more comfortable position.

"It was all I could find," she said apologetically. "It's not as warm as I'd like but at least it's dry."

Jiminy nodded; he wanted to reassure her but felt sure he wouldn't be able to hide his discomfort should he speak, so he remained silent. Though the cloth was dry it didn't provide enough warmth, he could tell, so eventually he would have to get up and start moving to generate the warmth himself, but at the moment he was much too weak to even entertain the thought. He was out of immediate danger, however, and for now that would have to be enough.

"What were you doing out there, Jiminy, so far from land and safety?"

The thought of Geppetto and Pinocchio made him look away as a wave of sorrow threatened to drown him as surely as the ocean. She sensed his mood and when she leaned down with a look of sorrow on her face Jiminy lifted a shaking hand to touch the tip of her nose, accepting her gesture for what it was; a genuine attempt at consolation.

"Monstro."

Even that single word was difficult to get out, but her gasp made it clear he didn't need to say more. She lifted him, cloth and all, and pressed him gently to her cheek. It was the closest thing to a hug Jiminy had received in many, many years. Emotion was choking him, he was exhausted and sad and frightened and he would probably have cried had he still been able. As it was he pressed himself a little closer, feeling the need for human - or something akin to human - contact, and in lieu of a proper hug this would do. It was strangely comforting, and not just because he could feel the warmth from her skin seeping into him and warming him more surely than the cloth had done. He wondered just how many years it had really been since he had been touched like this. He had given up much with his humanity, and only now did he really appreciate some of what he had lost.

A cry from somewhere in the distance broke their makeshift hug. Jiminy felt a faint flutter of hope. Was his mind playing tricks on him or ... that had sounded like Geppetto! His wings fluttered in excitement, but they were not dry yet so he struggled to his feet. Ondine steadied him but when he made to jump from her hand she held onto the flip of his jacket with two fingers, stopping him in his tracks.

"No," he protested. "No, you don't understand! That-that could be Geppetto, my ward, my - I need to go to him!"

"You're not well enough, Jiminy!"

"Yes, I am! Let go!" He tugged stubbornly on his jacket, too focused on getting to Geppetto to appreciate how close his display of frustration resembled a child's temper tantrum. Ondine frowned but didn't let go. When he with a frustrated groan started to struggle out of the jacket she cupped her hands, effectively trapping him.

"Hey!"

"Jiminy, calm down!"

"No! I need to get to Geppetto!"

"I'll help you get to Geppetto, if you'll just calm down!" She shook her hands for emphasis and he yelped out in surprise and annoyance. "Will you calm down!"

Ondine could hear grumbling from the confines of her cupped hands before he spoke up so she could hear him clearly: "I _am_ calm!"

Rolling her eyes she sighed loudly. "Look, I'm sure you're warm enough now after this little tug of war, but your wings are not dry yet and that cry sounded like it was a long way down the beach - it'll take you a long time to get there when you can't fly! But if you'll just relax for a second and _listen to me_ - " She gave him another shake, just for good measure, feeling both a little smug and amused at his muffled cry of protest. " - I'll get you there quicker!"

There was silence from within her cupped hands and she curiously lifted them to peer in at him through a crack between her fingers.

"_Fine._ I'm calm. I'm listening."

He sounded absolutely disgusted and Ondine had to bite her lip to keep from giggling. He was grumpy enough at this point, no need to annoy him further.

"So when I open my hands you're going to cooperate?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise!"

"All right then, here we go." She carefully opened her hands and though she half-expected him to immediately jump away, making a run for it, he kept his promise - though he had his arms folded across his chest in a clear display of displeasure, wet wings fluttering in annoyance and his whole body practically vibrating with the repressed urge to move.

"Now that wasn't so hard, now was -"

"Ondine!"

"Fine, fine, relax. Okay, here's the deal: you hold onto my hair, now that you're strong enough again to do so, and I'll swim you down the shore until we find your Geppetto. All right?"

He shuffled his feet a little, looking away briefly in what might have been shame before he nodded and replied in a soft and thankful voice: "All right."

. o O o .

**And beyond...**

The curse was broken and Archie Hopper found himself suddenly a lot older than he had been only that morning. His head was brimming over with decades worth of memories and he had not had time to really process... well, much of anything, really. Everything had been one big jumbled mess ever since that gust of magical wind brought back decades of memories and plain old Archie Hopper was forever changed.

He had pushed everything aside so he could function, so he could help, but now that things had settled down somewhat and he had retreated home for the evening there was no avoiding the pressure behind his eyes that had grown and grown ever since the moment Jiminy's memories returned. His memories. _Jiminy Cricket's_ memories. Henry had been right all along. He took off his glasses and covered his eyes with his hands, groaning as the headache throbbed in sync with his pulse. He felt strangely alien in his own body - no doubt the part of him that was Jiminy coping with being human again after so long, and his head felt like it was overflowing with information, too much to process...

There was a knock on his door and Pongo hurried out into the hall with a happy bark. Archie briefly considered not opening, pretending not to be home - let the visitor come back later! But he couldn't in good conscience ignore the knock, it could be someone needing help, and despite the confusion there was one thing both sides of him agreed upon: he wanted to help if he could.

He had to blink and squint a little when he opened the door, two figures for a moment overlapping each other before solidifying into one.

"Maya." His next-door neighbour, Maya Waters. But not just Maya anymore. "Ondine!"

In Storybrooke they had been neighbours, nodded hello and chatted a little about the weather, but nothing more. They had seen each other every single day but had not known a thing worth knowing about the other. Back home in their realm it had been the exact opposite; they had met but thrice, but those three times had made a profound impression on both of them and had resulted in a strong friendship that didn't fade with the years between each meeting.

"Hello, little landlubber."

He opened his arms with a smile and she immediately stepped into the embrace, holding on to him tightly.

. o .

Half an hour later she looked at him shrewdly over the brim of her tea cup and he felt a smile tug at his mouth.

"I know that look, Ondine."

"You need sleep," she said, putting her cup down with an air of finality. "I think that you would have an easier time reconciling everything if you let your subconscious do the heavy lifting. I had a nap this afternoon and I felt much, much better afterwards."

He shook his head. "I'm sure you're right, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep with this headache."

She was silent for a long moment and he was about to ask her if she wanted more tea when she suddenly shuffled a little closer to him on the couch, and leaning over placed a soft kiss at his temple. Though her healing magic was not back to its original power there was still enough to soothe the pounding pain into a dull throb. He sighed in relief as he felt the headache recede and she linked their arms together and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I take it I still got it, huh? Better?"

He chuckled and nodded. "Much better, thank you, Ondine."

"My pleasure as always, Jiminy."

"It seems you're destined to always saving me when I'm drowning, my friend, be it in water or my own memories."

"I'm glad to do it. And you saved people from drowning, too, you know. In the metaphorical sense, I mean. Both as Jiminy the conscience and as Archibald Hopper the psychiatrist." She smilingly emphasised his names and titles. "You listened when no one else did and you showed kindness and support when people felt the most alone and the most damaged."

He smiled humourlessly. "Back home maybe, but here in Storybrooke we never made much progress." And he had so wanted to help his patients.

"That was part of the curse," she said matter-of-factly. "When time stands still there can be no change, and without change there can be no improvement. But still you tried. And the fact that you tried helped in its own small way."

He blinked at her in surprise. It had not occurred to him, but it made sense: part of his happy ending was his ability to help people. It was what he did, it was who he was. The curse had taken that from him, and for 28 years he had tried to help patients unable to change. The thought ignited a spark of hope in his chest. The curse was broken now. He could help again.

Ondine seemed to know what he was thinking because she smiled and gave his knee an encouraging pat before rising from the couch.

"Get some sleep. There are a lot of people who'll need a friendly ear and a voice of reason in the days and weeks to follow."

He rose as well and followed her out into the hall. She opened the door and turned back to him with a fond look on her face. "I'll see you around, little one."

He reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's not make it years until we meet again this time, hm?"

She smiled brilliantly and pulled him into another hug. "We'll see a lot of each other, don't worry. Now go to sleep!"

And with a kiss on his cheek and a cheery wave she left, leaving Jiminy or Archie or whoever he was now feeling light at heart for the first time in quite a while. Smiling to himself he closed the door and turned off the lights in the living room before he obediently made his way to his bedroom, Pongo trotting after him with a yawn.

He fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow, and he dreamt of crashing waves, a beautiful song in his ear, and a mermaid who pulled him from the darkness.

. o_ Fin_ o .

**Author's note:** I started this before we met Ariel on the show, so I decided to make my own little mermaid instead of having my Ariel become glaringly OOC as soon as her episode aired. :P

According to myth Ondine was a spirit of the waters. The origin of the name is Latin and means "little wave". Her Storybrooke name Maya is from Hebrew, meaning "water". Yeah, I named her Water Waters. Let's call it my nod to Moon Moon. :P


End file.
